How to Play
Welcome to the Voices in My Head mock trial! Over the course of 9 days (Monday-Friday) we’ll post a new event every day. Come back daily to read the story and vote on how Guy should react. His actions will affect the trial’s outcome, and at the end he will either go free or go to prison.
For example, saying something sarcastic on the stand will make some jurors think poorly of Guy (as shown in the image on the right).
The story for this mock trial is entirely unique and does not spoil the events of the game. In the actual game, there are more witnesses and evidence presented, so the emergent story will be a bit longer.
Chapter One
Yes. You really needed that money, but did it justify robbing that bank? Probably not. Part of you thinks you should just confess, but the rest of you is terrified of prison. Nobody was hurt, right? Maybe it's ok to plead innocent and save yourself the hassle of a lifetime behind bars.
The Judge bangs her gavel, calling the court into session. “All please be seated.” The chatter slowly dies down, and the judge gives you a piercing gaze. “Guy Johnson, you are hereby accused of robbing the FourNine bank on….” She pauses and wrinkles her nose into a priceless expression. “What on earth is that smell?”
Chapter Two
“That’s the smell of innocence, a familiar aroma in your courtroom, Your Honor.”
“My job would be a lot easier if the justice system operated on my olfactory sense,” the judge finished her dry remark with a chuckle. “But seriously, how do you plead?”
Chapter Three
“Innocent as a baby lamb, Your Honor.”
“Let the record show that Guy bleats—I mean pleads—innocent,” the judge tells the recordkeeper.
The trial begins with the prosecutor’s opening statement. She’s all fire and brimstone, full of personal attacks and accusations—and, worst of all, it’s true. Still, you can’t help but feel like it’s an assault on your character. You refuse to let anyone treat you this way. After all, your pride is at stake.
Chapter Four
You make your opening statement short and sweet. “Listen, I don’t know why the prosecutor’s got a personal vendetta against me, but she’s got her facts all mixed up. Like, we’ll totally prove that I’m perfectly innocent, and stuff. Just you wait and see!”
Silence hangs over the courtroom. No one dares move a muscle. After what feels like minutes, the judge finally chimes in, “Oh, was that all you have to say? Alright then, let’s move things along. Prosecution, your move.”
“Your Honor, we’d like to present this Coiling Cobra’s hat as official evidence. It was recovered from the scene of the crime and is covered in the defendant’s DNA.”
Where on earth did they get that? You despise that sports team!
Chapter Five
Against your better judgment, you choose to be a good client, stay silent, and let your lawyer do what you paid him large sums of money to do.
“Your Honor,” your lawyer says. “Their DNA report is inadmissible. Look, it is dated 3 weeks before the robbery took place. There’s something very fishy going on here…”
The judge agrees and summarily dismisses the evidence.
The prosecution presents a few more mundane objects, like a duffle bag and an old plunger, as “valuable evidence,” but honestly, you’re not really paying attention until the she calls her first witness: an elderly woman who looks vaguely familiar.
“Your Honor, we’d like to call Margaret Mimsford to the stand…”
Wait, you recognize her! Mrs. M. was your teacher in grade school. She would never betray you…would she?
Chapter Six
You stretch your right hand straight up in the air, just like she taught you those many years ago. Mrs. Mimsford pauses and tilts her head at you. “Guy? Nice Guy Johnson? Look at you, you’re all grown up!”
Her serious demeanor melts away, and she proceeds to gush about how you were the most wonderful student she ever had.
Luckily, your attorney gets to call the next witness. You advise him to start with your strongest witness!
Chapter Seven
Your landlord takes the stand. “As far as I can tell, Guy was at home all day watching TV. It was quite loud, you see, and we received several complaints from the neighbors about the excessive noise.”
It was a stroke of luck that you forgot to turn off your TV before you left for the bank. The jury seems to be buying the story!
A few more witnesses come and go, but none have anything of consequence to say. An hour after sunset, the Judge calls a recess, and you head home to get some rest. Tomorrow is the big day.
First thing in the morning, you take the stand.
Your defense lawyer smiles at you, and your nervousness melts away. “Guy, in your own words, can you please tell us where you were on the day of the crime?”
Chapter Eight
“Well, I slept in until about 9am. I took a shower and downed a bowl of Raisin Bran while watching my favorite show: The Real House Husbands of New England. This episode was great because Ricky was completely in over his head…”
You continue for 20 minutes solid, running through every show you “watched” that day, offering details that only someone who had truly seen them would know (or someone who caught them next-day on their favorite streaming service).
The prosecutor is next up and cuts through your nonsense with a brilliant cross-examination. She ends with one final question: “Just be honest with us, Guy. Did you rob the FourNine bank?”
Chapter Nine
“If I had robbed a bank, would I be here right now?” you ask. ”If I were as filthy rich as you claim, I’d be in a speedo sipping cocktails on some tropical beach. Rich people are never put on trial.”
“Unless they commit a crime and get caught, which pretty much sums up your situation, Mr. Johnson” the prosecutor replies. Whoops…that backfired. “No further questions, Your Honor.”
The judge dismisses the jury, and they deliberate for a mere 10 minutes. That’s not a good sign, is it?
Sweat pours down your face as the presiding juror rises to her feet. “Despite the defendant's shaky alibi and ridiculous courtroom antics, we were not given sufficient evidence to provide a conviction. On the charges of bank robbery, we find the defendant INNOCENT.”
While you still feel a little guilty, you can’t help but celebrate. You start dancing, belting out your favorite tune: “You’ve been hit by [stomp, stomp], you’ve been struck by [stomp] a smooth criminal!” You execute a flawless moonwalk past the bailiff, exchange high-fives with your attorney, make a resolute fist-pump, and confidently stride out of the courtroom.
THE END